Caught in the Act
by the-vampire-act
Summary: OneShot; Smoking!Reid. Reid starts smoking. Hotch wants to know why, and Rossi knows why.


**Caught in the Act**

Spencer Reid had a secret. It wouldn't kill him- well, debatably-so he had decided it was okay to keep it to himself. Now, as the rest of his team partied in the bar, he indulged in his secret. Taking a lighter from his pocket and lifting a stick from his messenger bag, he lit up and shoved the cigarette in his mouth. Exhaling, he closed his eyes and leaned against the railing of the make-shift balcony.

"And what exactly do you think you're doing?"

Startled, Spencer turned around with wide eyes, hiding the cigarette behind his back. He watched as Aaron Hotchner closed in on him as Rossi stood in the doorway.

"Got spares?" the older man asked. "I prefer cigars, but I'm not too picky." Rossi extended his hand, and Spencer wasn't sure whether he was supposed to give him one or not. Deciding he better anyways, he threw the lighter and reached for his pack. Thankfully, Rossi lit up. "Oh, and by the way, Aaron here's about to scold you, so just pretend to listen," he smirked.

"You shouldn't be smoking, Reid," Hotch sighed.

"And why not?" Reid asked defensively, plopping the cigarette back in his mouth. Annoyed, Hotch pinched it back out with two fingers and threw it on the floor. He stomped on it as Rossi pushed the cigarette box against Reid's thin chest, smirking when even the little touch was enough to push the younger against back.

"He gave me the same lecture," Rossi said. "I'll be waiting inside." Then, shoving the cigarette against a near-by ashtray, he walked back into the bar.

Hotch waited until Rossi was inside to start his charade, and when he turned back toward Reid, he glared as he realized that he had another cigarette out. "Reid, why are you doing this?" he asked, slightly exasperated.

The younger agent didn't answer, though, as he merely turned around to lean against the railing again. He let his long curls cover his face as he huffed on the cigarette. He was only slightly aware of the hand on his shoulder as the snow flakes fell all around them. He wasn't even aware that he was shaking in the cold until Hotch threw his coat jacket over him.

"You know the risks, Reid, the damage it can do to your health," he said gently. "Morgan told me about the whole six minutes thing you told your mother when she was smoking, and, well, here's your six minutes." Reid just pulled the jacket closer to him, trying his best to avoid eye contact with his boss as Hotch inched closer to him. "Why are you doing this, Reid?" he repeated.

"It's….it's safer than dilaudid, Hotch," he trembled.

Hotch pulled the cigarette more gently from his younger agent's mouth, once again tossing it to the floor. He reached in Reid's messenger bag for the pack, too. Reid sighed shakily as he pulled the lighter from his pocket and dropped it in Hotch's hands. He wrapped his hands around himself, desperately hoping that his tears would stop falling.

"Why do you need dilaudid?" Hotch tried again. He still wasn't getting through to Reid but he desperately needed to.

"Be-because it hurts, Aaron," he whispered. He suddenly felt ten times colder than he did a few seconds ago, and his hands were shaking much harder than before. Hotch reached out and touched Reid's bare skin, frowning. "You're freezing, Reid. How long have you been out here?"

"A-a while," he admitted. "I've been standing here, mostly, trying to get up the courage to smoke in front of you guys." Then, another thought came to mind, and he frowned. "Rossi won't tell the others, will he? I don't want them knowing, especially Garcia. She'd kill me if she knew that I had started smoking, and Morgan would never let it go…."

"Relax Reid," Hotch smiled. "Rossi won't tell anyone. You know he's not the type to tattle like that."

"Yeah," Reid sighed, unconsciously playing with the sleeves of Hotch's jacket. He blushed suddenly and started to shrug the coat off of his shoulders. "Er, sorry-"

"No, keep it," Hotch shook his head. "Your skin's like ice- I'm fine."

"Thanks," Reid smiled hesitantly. He fluttered his eyes, hoping that his tears had dried by now. Hotch took the silent moment as an opportunity to pocket the cigarettes, and he placed a hand on Reid's slim back. "Will I get those back?" Reid frowned.

"As soon as you tell me why you need them," Hotch shrugged.

Sighing, Reid moved away from Hotch's touch. Reaching for his pocket, he produced an orange-tainted bottle and threw it up at Hotch. The older man immediately read the label, frowning at the name. Then, another realization hit him. "You haven't taken any of them."

"I….I can't," he sighed. "It makes it all real, I guess."

Hotch fingered the pill bottle, shaking his head as he read the label again, praying that he had read it incorrectly. Sadly, he hadn't. "You should've told me," he said. "What if something had happened on the field?"

"It's depression, not cancer, Hotch," Reid sneered. "What would've happened?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Hotch glared. "And you really, _really _should have told me about this!"

A knock on the wall sent their gazes over to the entryway, and Hotch immediately gave Reid the pills back.

"What are those?" Garcia asked, her eyes wide.

"Nothing Garcia, nothing," Reid spat. Then, without warning, he threw off Hotch's coat and started off toward the door.

Hotch caught Reid's wrists, though, and Garcia stared back at the two men with shock, obviously wondering what the hell was going on. "We're not done with this conversation, Reid," he warned. "I'll give them back to you when you're ready to talk."

"Fine," Reid mumbled. Hotch let go of his wrists, and Reid immediately stormed off.

"What the hell was that about?" Garcia asked, her eyes sharp as they glared at Hotch. "What did you do to my boy genius?" Reid was completely unaware of any response that may have been given after that, as by the time Garcia had finished yelling, he was already walking out the front doors.

~* Caught *~

Then next day, Spencer Reid was almost afraid to go to work. As he fidgeted behind his desk three hours earlier than he usually was, he waited for Hotch to come anxiously. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. Less than a minute later, he was being ushered into the older man's office and wordlessly obliged. Reid sat down on the opposite side of Hotch's desk, and much to his dismay-or comfort, he supposed- a new pack of cigarettes and his lighter from last night were displayed on his desk.

"I apologize for wasting so many of them last night, but I think you understand why," Hotch began.

"Yeah, I do," Reid nodded quietly.

"Good," Hotch replied. Then, he motioned to the cigarettes. "Our deal still stands."

"I know that, too," Reid sighed. Then, he placed his pills on the desk and pointed to the water bottle behind Hotch. "I….I'm going to need that."

"Why?" Hotch still reached for the bottle, anyways, and he sat it in front of Reid.

"I'm depressed because…." Reid sighed. Then, he opened the pill bottle and flicked the cap off the water. Placing a pill in his mouth, he chugged. Reid stood and recapped the bottle, watching as Hotch's eyes followed him. "Because I don't know why." He reached down for the cigarettes and the lighter and promptly shoved them in his pocket. "And I'm going to be needing those later, too." Without saying another word, Reid left and let the door slam shut behind him.

~* Caught *~

Spencer Reid looked out on the roof of the BAU, lighting a cigarette and shoving it in his mouth. He was stressed, and when he was stressed, he smoked. And as a pair of footsteps clattered against the floor, he didn't even bother trying to hide it.

"He means the best, you know." David Rossi pulled out his cigar and stole the lighter for Reid's hand. "You know, men used to bond over cigarettes and poker. Now, we bond over discussing how bad cigarettes and poker are for us," he smirked.

"Yeah, well, things change," Reid sighed.

"And you're no exception, Dr. Reid," Rossi said. They stared out over the cityscape as they both pretended not to notice Reid's shaking hands and his red eyes; pretended that they both didn't know about the pills in his pocket or the reason why he was smoking; and they certainly didn't notice Reid losing reserve and giving in, either.

Or, maybe they actually did.

"I know you know about the pills, and I know you know why I'm smoking," he sighed. Reid stared back at Rossi, cigarette in hand. "I'm depressed- I've known that for a while, but what I don't know is why."

"I didn't ask," Rossi cautiously spoke, eyebrows raised.

"I know," Reid sighed, "but Hotch was right. I should've told him."

"You know, I was in the same position you were when I was your age….and that's when I started smoking, too." Rossi turned to face Reid, and he was reassured to know that he was listening to him. "I was depressed, but in our line of work, that's not all that hard to become. I refused to take the pills, though, so I turned to cigars and beer. It helped, yeah, but it didn't stop it. Aaron…." Rossi paused, smiling just a bit. He let out a low and pained laugh, and Reid had a feeling he knew where the story was heading. "Well, let's just say he saved me from myself." The older man took the cigar out of his mouth and turned completely over to Reid. "I'm not telling you to stop, because I'm not a hypocrite. I am, however, urging you to realize that those cigarettes won't cure you…..But they will help distract you," he smirked.

"Yeah, I've noticed," Reid smiled back thoughtfully.

"Then you've also notice that it hasn't changed anything, either," Rossi said.

Reid took the cigarette out of his mouth, and he turned from Rossi to the cigarette. "I just started taking the pills today," he admitted, "but I fear that I might've offended Hotch in the meantime," he blushed.

Rossi laughed as he patted Reid's back. "Yeah, well, I did too," he admitted. "He's doesn't mind, or at least I sure as hell hope he doesn't."

"Yeah, me too," Reid smiled shyly. He suddenly felt childish for the tantrum he had thrown, and he was almost positive that Rossi had caught on to that.

"I'm going to head back down now," Rossi announced. "Care to join me?"

"I think I'm going to stay up here, actually," Reid frowned. "I think I need to think about some things…."

"I can understand that," Rossi smiled sadly. He patted Reid's back before disposing of the remnants of his cigar, and without another word, he climbed down the stairs and back into the BAU. As soon as he entered, he saw Hotch approach him.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

Rossi smiled, nodding his head in reassurance. "I think the kid's going to be alright after all."

~* Caught *~

**I've got Smoking!Reid stuck in my head for a while now, and I've yet to actually read a FF where he smokes, so I decided to finally write one. Now if only I can remember to write a Hair-pulling!Reid story….Thnx for reading everyone!**


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